


Not So Young

by bellamys_cheekbones



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Kissing, M/M, OoS!Matt - Freeform, ST!Tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 00:11:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17477591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellamys_cheekbones/pseuds/bellamys_cheekbones
Summary: "Aren't you violating your curfew already?""I am, but what's a curfew for a freshly eighteen-year old?"The two meet at a local pub and enjoy an evening full of jokes, smart talks and surprises.





	Not So Young

**Author's Note:**

> It's not really an AU story, but it doesn't fit into the "reality" category either... Nonetheless, it's a story involving my two favourite experimental characters, Tom and Matt! I hope you'll enjoy this little concept; I didn't want to write anything heavy with this idea and kissing might've been the best option, I think. 
> 
> I appreciate every reader, heart and comment. Thank you so much for giving this a chance!

He caught up with the boy at the bar. "Aren't you violating your curfew already?" 

He sipped on his yellow-ish drink, sensing the man's cheekiness, but didn't risk looking at the source of the voice. "I am, but what's a curfew for a freshly eighteen-year old?" the boy smirked. The taller man liked the playful approach the boy was taking. 

"Eighteen? Twelve would be more appropriate to your looks." 

"Thanks, I appreciate your input. I used too many skin products at once," he grinned, shaking a tad with the glass, so the liquid made a circling move. 

"If I had a kid, I would advice them on less drinking, though," the older one said and looked at the barman longingly, before he was noticed and ordered the same drink as the smaller boy. It was whiskey. An expensive one, which left him wondering, where he got the money to buy that.

The boy sighed and took a long gulp. "What am I supposed to do, call you 'dad'?" Then he finally turned and looked the man in the face. He smirked and leaned in close to his ear. "Or 'daddy'?" 

The taller man laughed at the attempt to be seductive. "'Daddy' would be good enough for an eight-year old. I'm good with dad." 

They shared a good laugh and dunked their glasses together. 

"Came alone?" was the man's question.

"Nah. But they're either making out in a bathroom stall or in each other's pants in her bedroom already."

The older man raised his glass. "Know that feeling way too much. My friends are around dancing, but left the poor old man alone. Now I wish I were there alone." 

"Preach, dad." 

"And exclusively for you, it's Tom." Another drink, less reservations left. "I sense someone doesn't need friends with that amount of money."

"True that. I raked off all my money, so I could get absolutely shitfaced, but it seems my blood system is way too used to the alcohol in it." 

There was a comfortable silence between them both. They felt contented sitting close next to each other, just drinking and watching all the people arriving and leaving the pub, thinking of reasons why some people came here. 

A young girl approached the lad. "Would it be weird if I asked for your name first before inviting you for a drink?" There was a mischievous glint in the stranger's eyes. The boy decided to sweep it off of her face. 

"Not at all. My man here didn't even invite me for the drink after telling him I'm Matthew." He emphasised the lie by taking Tom's arm, circling it around his own shoulders. Tom understood and moved his other hand on Matt's thigh, a proud smile plastered on his face. 

"Wow, isn't he a tad older than you, dear?" 

"Well, with his stable work he can buy me all the things I like. I doubt you could afford the drink you were offering me." With this retort, the strange girl shot them both a glare, but didn't say anything and just left without a word. 

Matt laughed it off and leaned into Tom's shirt. "Sorry for dragging ya along. I'm just not looking for a hook-up tonight." Tom left his hands where they were and it seemed like the boy didn't mind at all.

"No worries about that, me neither. That bird was out of your league anyway," he laughed and reached for his drink. When Matt noticed the glass, he put his hand over Tom's and put it to his lips, taking a gulp. "You're really tough for how you look, I must say." 

"What? Miss Tom doesn't drink like that? If I had a man like you, I would be seen drinking whiskey from your stomach _only_." He straightened on the bar stool, looking around as if searching for somebody, Tom pressumed his friends. "Where are those wankers? I really want to leave."

"What do your friends look like? I can search around, if you want." The older started standing up, but a small, veiny hand stopped him. 

"No!" It sounded almost desperate and when Tom looked the boy in the eyes, he saw that sad glint there. He immediately understood and leaned back again, so the boy could prop his head on Tom's shoulder. "I mean... They're probably having good time. Not like I'm not." 

"You don't have to compliment me all the time, I won't leave anyway," Tom joked and put his arm around his shoulders, bringing Matt closer. "I feel like you're my responsibility now. With all those old people trying to catch attention of a quite handsome boy like you..."

"Now you're doing that!" he exclaimed with a smile, but Tom couldn't miss the blush creeping in they boy's cheeks. "But thanks. For this evening, I mean. Can I treat ya for a drink?"

"Only if you'll let me pay the next round," Tom winked. 

They bought two more drinks; Matt paid the first round and Tom chose a shot of tequila, the second round was on Tom with Matt preferring Stout over awt else. Talking and laughing together seemed now much more pleasant than at the start of the evening, and naturally Tom wanted to spend the rest of the night with the crazy-haired boy he'd just met. 

To his luck, Matt wasn't keen on staying in the pub much longer, and as soon as he downed his Guiness, he tugged at Tom's shirt, hinting towards the door. 

"Are you sure you want to walk? You don't seem as capable of doing that as you were before," Tom noted, slightly propping the smaller boy. 

Matt hiccoughed. "I am completely capable of doing that," he said, but he let Tom carry him out of the establishment after he helped him to his jacket. It was June and it wasn't needed to have many layers, but nights in Teignmouth weren't that easy. 

Matt's sense of fashion sort of surprised Tom, but he paid no attention to it after a few metres, given that Matt _was_ a very, very young adult and had developed his own style before.

They spent a few minutes in silence, Tom letting Matt lead the way, when the boy stopped abruptly, spinning around to face Tom. "We forgot about your mates. I'm so sorry!" He wanted to run back, but stumbled and crashed right into the taller man.

"Hey, don't worry okay? I'll deliver ya home, make sure you're safe and I'll get back to them," Tom said and patted Matt on his back, turning him forward, so he could show him the way, but Matt remained in his place on Tom's shoulder. He found himself not minding it at all. He let his arm fall around the red-haired boy's shoulders and shoved him a tad, so he started walking again. 

"Is it really okay? I don't want to bother." 

It sounded almost pathetic to Tom's ears and he wanted to make sure that Matt didn't think he was a burden to him. "It's nowt, really. They're adults and have been for some time, so they can wait." That must've been encouraging enough, because Matt wasn't as tense as when leaving the pub. "Is it far from here?"

"What, another pub?"

"Oh, come on," Tom laughed. Matt shot him a smile almost as warm as the whiskey they'd drunk in the pub. With Tom's arm keeping its place around Matt's shoulders, they continued the road towards Matt's house.

"Do you still live with your parents?" the older asked out of the blue.

"I do. I'm alone at the moment, but I normally do. It's a bout half a mile. Is it okay?"

"Of course it is. I don't want anything happen to you, so even if it were a thousand miles, I'd go. Unhappily, but I would." Though he answered, he alone had a question floating around. "What do you mean that you're alone at the moment?"

"Oh, they went away for a family visit to London and left me the house for some celebrations, since I turned eighteen. They trust me. Too much sometimes, but they do." The undoubtedly contentment could be heard in Matt's words, and Tom cherished Matt wasn't that reserved that he told him this information. It was useless to Tom, since they would probably see each other just that night and that was it, but he still appreciated the fact that Matt trusted him. 

Matt started skipping on the pavement, his movements now more well-rounded for the amount of alcohol he consumed. His high-pitched laughter was constant, with every step he took, the laughing intensified and decreased from time to time. _I certainly miss_ those _times,_ Tom thought and watched the youngster swing his weight from one leg to the other. 

With how fast was the pace Matt picked up, they arrived at a smaller part of the town, where the boy stopped. The house wasn't big by any means, but it looked comfortable. There was a garden as well, but Tom didn't have time to have a look, when Matt dragged him towards the door.

Tom decided not to go inside. There was no need to go anyway. Matt was safely at home and he could go back and meet with his friends again. 

"Come inside and have a drink with me," Matt tried to persuade him. 

"Matt, I think you had enough drinks for today. You should go straight to bed," Tom advised. He turned around in preparation to leave, but Matt stepped in front of him.

"I'm not tired! Come on, I owe you this one. You walked me home for almost a mile! Others would've let me struggle alone, my friends included." Matt inched closer to Tom's face and inspected it for a sign of hesitation. "I like you, Tom. You're really a good character." 

Matt finally fished out his keys and unclocked the door, grabbing Tom's hand. The taller man wasn't really sure if this was a good idea, but Matt was insistent. "Just one, Matt. And you'll have a coke or something sugary, because I don't really want to see you getting more pissed up," he commanded, closing the door behind them, but let Matt lead him towards some room. 

"Of course, of course," Matt muttered. Tom didn't think the boy would take the advice. 

Matt opened the door to reveal quite large, cozy looking room. In the darkness, Tom couldn't recognise the colour of the walls, but the majority of the room was covered in posters of bands, singers and albums. It was like any other teenager's room, but the prominent features included three guitars and a grand piano. 

Matt sat him on the bed. "Wait, I'll bring it here." It took Matt less than a minute to carry the drinks to his bedroom, so Tom had no chance of observing the environment. 

Matt arrived back to the room holding two glasses and a bottle of wine in the other hand. "As I promised," he announced, when his crazy-haired head poke through the door.

"Where's your drink? Believe me that I'm not going to give ya a swig of that, even if there's only a small percentage of alcohol in it."

Matt gave Tom the most innocent look in the world and it completely broke the older man inside. The thought of confessing to Matt, even though he was more than half his age, grew stronger. He gnawed at his lower lip as he watched the youngster unconsciously sway his way towards the bed. 

Matt sat down cross-legged and fiddled with the bottle, looking even more younger and inexperienced. _That's it_ , Tom said and put a hand over the neck of the bottle Matt was trying to open. Matt stopped what he was doing, giving Tom an expectant look. 

"Matt, you know how you asked about 'Miss Tom', right? Since you told me about your parents and more about yourself, I have to fold my cards as well." Matt raised his eyebrow, nodding curiously. Through the room could be heard Tom's loud gulp. "There's no _'Miss_ Tom'. And there will _never_ be." 

Before Matt could show any reaction to the confession, Tom snatched the bottle from Matt's struggling hands and held it behind his back. "But now, Matt, in all seriousness; go get a non-alcoholic drink and we can normally talk, until you're tired enough to go to sleep." He tried to use his soothing voice that would persuade Matt to do as he was told. 

"Hey! That was mine- ours- I mean-" Matt lost himself in the tangle of his own thoughts and it was now _fairly_ obvious to Tom that even if he did beg like a kid for sweets, he wouldn't even get to touch the bottle.

Matt tried to topple over Tom and steal the bottle back, but not only he didn't succeed, his fragile body collapsed on top of the older and made them both fall down on the soft bed. 

The bottle Tom had been holding landed on the floor, the thud making him laugh. "Hey, are ya comfortable up there?" he proceeded to say. Matt's eyes were glossy, probably thanks to the alcohol he had consumed earlier. 

But when the red-haired boy spoke up, Tom had a feeling of insecurity. That there was something behind Matt's words that he didn't quite catch. "More than enough, Tom." 

Small hands covered Tom's in an attempt to hold him down gently - of course that couldn't happen, since Matt was about half Tom's weight, the older guessed.

When Matt's eyelids half-closed, Tom _definitely_ knew that sowt wasn't alright. And Matt leaning to close his small, elegant lips over Tom's only confirmed that. A whimper that almost sounded like a curse word escaped Matt's mouth and Tom suddenly froze, his head completely empty for a moment. 

_Fuck indeed,_ thought Tom and he was quick to respond. "Woah, woah, woah, what are you doing, Matt?" Tom pushed the younger back, not sure what to do in a situation like this. Matt was playing around, surely. Or he wanted to try something new. Tom couldn't let that happen.

Matt stopped, confusion painted in his bright blue eyes. "I don't know... Kissing you?" He rolled over next to Tom, looking at the ceiling.

They were both silent. It was that sort of awkward silence, when you don't know what to say, or if you should even speak for that matter.

The only thing that was heard were the clocks ticking away seconds, then minutes. And fifteen painful minutes, they spent thinking about which path to take now. It was Matt, who broke the loneliness that surrounded the room, even though there were two people.

"I thought you wanted it. Like... It was bound to happen from the moment you started talking to me. Wasn't it?" More than asking Tom, it was a rhetorical question, which Matt only needed to asnwer on his own. 

Tom's hand crept to latch onto Matt's and he took it to his chest. He felt the small limb tremble, but it was surely due to his nervousness. "Matt, you need to understand that I stopped you, because it's not right from moral and social point of view," Tom confessed. "It's definitely not that you aren't handsome or that you have a terrible personality." He felt like adding the last part, because he had experiences with people like Matt; those needed to hear words of encouragement. 

"Well, age is ju-" 

"No, Matt, trust me, it's not _just_ a number." Tom sighed and mentally scolded himself for coming too harsh on that boy. He wanted to make him feel secure and that he can still trust him. 

"But tell ya what; let's talk as if we were back in the pub. I loved talking to you and geting to know this fresh young lad named Matt," Tom finished. He sat up, bringing Matt's hand with him, so that he forced the youngster to sit up as well. 

The initial idea wasn't as appealing as what was in Matt's mind, but he understood completely, what Tom was trying to say. He wanted to spend time with the older man and if it meant just talking, then so be it. 

Both talked about their favorite music and films, though mainly Matt did the talking with music. Tom guessed that he was quite invested in the industry, but he'd never met a person who knew so much about classical music and music theory. Even though he understood pretty much nothing, it was magical seeing the boy's eyes glow in the dark, when breaking down one of the pieces by Chopin. 

When Matt asked what was Tom's major, he proudly answered that he was a visual artist and a photographer. "With an artistic mind," Tom recited, "one couldn't be any happier." Matt scoffed at the cheesy quote, but deep in his brain he added it to his collection. Tom proceeded to talk about his fascination with nuclear energy and that he had even visited CERN. Matt couldn't help but call him a big nerd. "Well, that's a compliment, isn't it?" Tom winked and continued in his introduction of the concept of matter with enthusiasm. 

Tom stopped talking, when he felt Matt's full weight leaning on him and light snores sounded through the empty room. He smiled. His unintended plan worked well on the boy and the situation couldn't have possibly ended better. 

Very carefully he lifted Matt's thin frame as not to wake him up, laid him on the cushions and covered Matt's sleeping form with a sheet that was thrown over the edge of the bed. He couldn't help but to gently stroke the crazy-coloured hair once more. As Tom was prepared to open the door and leave the room, the nagging in his mind couldn't let him abandon the boy without saying goodbye. Turning around, he reached blindly towards the table for a piece of paper and a pencil and scribbled down a message in a grotty handwriting. 

Leaving the note on the table, he made his way out of the room without waking Matt up and when he made sure that he didn't forget anything, he left Matt's house with one thought: _"What an interesting evening."_

•~

Four hours later, when Matt woke up, the sun had already started rising. He was still dressed and remembered bits and pieces, but when he cautiously got up to check his phone on the table, he found a crumpled piece of paper.

_I left, but your character didn't leave my memory. Write me? 01752 327849._

_Tom_

Matt smiled. _Will do,_ he thought.


End file.
